Running Away
by LeesaCrakon
Summary: Something terrible happens, and Specs can't take the guilt. Inspired by Midnight Hour's "Running Away". Rated T for major character death.


**Hey guys! I'm back at it with another Newsies sort-of songfic! Newsies belongs to Disney and Running Away belongs to Midnight Hour. I recommend you listen to the song while you read; it helps to set the tone.  
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It all happened so fast. All I knew was that there'd been a horse carriage, I got pushed out of the way, and then there was screaming. Racetrack was lying motionless in the middle of the streets. At least, I thought it was Race, I couldn't really see. I groped around for my glasses, which I'd lost when I got pushed, and quickly put them on my face. The kid in the street was indeed Race. I could see the limp hand that still lightly clutched the unlit cigar, the cap that lay a few feet away from his blonde head, the strewn newspapers. There was blood everywhere. I couldn't recognize his face anymore.

"Oh my God," I whispered, too stunned to do anything else. Jack and a few other newsies I didn't bother to identify had already rushed to our fallen friend's side. _Friend. He was my friend._ I was shaking so bad that my arms collapsed from under me and I just laid there, face down to the dirty streets of New York City, and waited for the tears to start falling, but they never did. I just kept shaking, ignoring the concerned calls of my name and the few men who kicked me in the side or stepped on my hands as they walked by. They didn't care about a dead or mourning kid.

"Specs. Specs, get up," Tumbler said, his voice breaking as he shook me lightly. I didn't respond. I just laid there. "Specs, come on, we need ta go!" Tumbler was begging now, and he grabbed me by the back of the shirt and tried to pick me up. "Is he dead?" I asked hoarsely, looking up at the younger boy with tired eyes. Tumbler stared back at me, his face paled and his eyes filled with hurt. He didn't have to say anything, I already knew.

Suddenly finding strength, I hauled myself to my feet and pushed past the younger boy, rushing to the spot where the newsies had crowded around Race. A few of the younger ones were crying and Jack was trying to get them all to calm down while Itey and Bumlets lifted Race's broken body in their arms. There was blood pooling on the streets, and that's all I could see. Black tainted by vision and I stumbled backwards, my stomach churning as I had the sudden urge to vomit.

"Specs, calm down." It was Crutchie that was trying to soothe me now. I didn't realize I was shaking like a leaf until he rested a hand on my shoulder and I saw it moving up and down with my body. "It's my fault," I choked out, watching the others with horror. Crutchy said something, but I didn't hear him. Jack had looked up from the group. Jack, my closest friend, gave me a glare that sent chills down my spine. I could see the pure hatred in his eyes, the grief.

"Nuh uh, this ain't your fault. You couldn't have done nothin' to stop it," Crutchy said firmly. I stared at him blankly, his words making my head spin. But that's why it was why fault. I couldn't stop what happened. I was too scared to get out of the way, and then Race pushed me, and then he...

The tears began to fall. I wrenched out of Crutchie's grip and I ran as fast as I could. I had never been a fast runner, but today my legs made me fly through the streets, past the people crowding the streets and through the dark and disgusting alleyways until I reached the lodging house. I ran up the stairs, tripping a few times before I finally made it into the bunk area.

I silently thanked heaven that I always kept my suitcase packed. I reached under my bed, frantically searching the dust coated floor for the small black case I kept for a time like this, because I knew it would happen. I'd been a runner every since I was a kid, and that hadn't change. At least I had a reason this time. As I grabbed the small suitcase out from under my bed I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I put a hand to my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and trying not to completely lose it.

"I'm so sorry!" I sobbed to the empty air. "I'm sorry Race, I'm sorry!" I tangled my fingers in my hair and sobbed so hard I could barely breathe. Race was gone, and it was all my fault. I killed my friend. He died by getting trampled under a horse that should have killed _me._ I should be dead, not Race! I'd done worse things in my life than he had. He didn't deserve to be dead. He was just a kid, younger than me, and he was dead. I tried to pull myself together, but the tears never stopped falling.

I yanked open the drawer of the small table beside my bed, searching it desperately for a few dollars or so. Just running wouldn't get me anywhere. The boys would find me and drag me back to this hell, where Race's absence would be a constant reminder to me of how I got my best friend killed. My efforts produced just enough, and I sagged with relief. Saving up and not gambling with the others had paid off. I placed the precious money into my pocket and got up, my suitcase in hand.

"You ain't leavin', are ya?" a small voice asked behind me. Les stood in the doorway with Davey, Boots, and Kid Blink. I wiped my eyes quickly, hoping that none of them had seen I was crying. "Yeah, I'm leaving. Don't try to stop me, alright?" I snapped, making Les shrink back into his older brother's arms. Kid Blink's expression soured and he looked ready to sock me in the mouth, but his face slacked as he saw my expression.

"Specs, what's eatin' ya?" Blink asked quietly. I didn't answer, because I knew he'd try to stop me from running and he'd keep me here. He'd probably tie me to the bed if he had something to do it with. I stood still and kept my head bowed, waiting for the three boys in the doorway to move. I knew they wouldn't but I was too stupid and too scared to make them move myself. I sniffed softly and rubbed my eyes again as I felt more tears make their way down my cheeks. Realization dawned in David's eyes and he shook his head slowly.

"It's not your fault, Specs. It was an accident," Davey said, but I wasn't having it. I was fed up with everyone telling it wasn't my fault when it was! I was to blame! I grabbed Davey by the front of the shirt and slammed him into the wall, releasing immediately and dashing down the stairs. Blink and Les shouted after me but I ignored them. I was running again.

I reached the train station, breathing heavily and sweating from running all the way here. I looked around to see where the ticket booth was, and I perked up a bit when I found it. The line was too long since it was early on a Saturday morning, and I was up there in no time. I bought the most expensive ticket I could afford and almost laughed out loud when the destination turned out to be Washington D.C., the place where I was born. I kept running, but all roads lead home, I suppose.

The train wouldn't be here until around three o'clock, and I didn't want to go anywhere in fear that the other newsies would find me, so I made myself comfortable on a wooden bench and waited. I watched in slight awe as the train station slowly began to awaken and people poured into it. They all had plans, some sort of agenda, a place to be. I was just running away, again, from a past I didn't want to remember. I hid my head in my hands and let out a soft sigh.

I'd run away from home when I was really young. I'd run from an orphanage after that, then the refuge, and now I was running away from the one place I had called home. But how can you call a place home if all of the memories there have become soured? I sat on that bench and for the first time in my life, I was able to reflect, and I realized just how much Racetrack had been in my life. From the moment he stepped foot in the lodging house, he'd played a role in my life that no one else could fill. Those memories were worthless now, and better left in the back of my mind. The hours inched by but I didn't move an inch. I think I fell asleep a few times, but I was always shaken awake by the chattering of passing train goers or the paranoid thought that I'd heard a voice of a newsie. I hadn't, of course, but my nerves were on edge.

"SPECS!" My fists clenched and I stayed as still as possible, shutting my eyes and hoping it was all in my head. God, i'd sunk low, hoping I was insane more than hoping my friends were here. My luck had run out though, and the next thing I knew Jack had grabbed me by the front of the shirt and was dragging me out of the station. I kicked, hollered, and tried to shove him away, but he wouldn't hear it.

"You's an idiot! Why the hell would'cha up an leave! Boy, I outta-" I yanked out of Jack's grip, shaking with fear as I remembered the glare filled with hate and sadness and grief. Jack didn't want me back, he just wanted to kill me like I'd gotten Race killed. Jack reached out a hand to touch my shoulder, a gesture that usually would show me he was concerned for me, but this time made jump back in fear.

"Stay away! I'm leaving, Jack!" I said desperately, hoping he'd leave me alone. Jack's expression blanked and he considered me for a moment. "You's runnin' away?" was the simple reply. I nodded.

"Why?" I wanted to laugh. Who did Jack think he was kidding? He'd always been such a good actor. I just pulled out the ticket I'd purchased earlier, waving it in his face. "I know you hate me. I killed Race, so why wouldn't you? Well, you don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm leaving, I'm running away, and I'm not coming back. You'll never find me, and I'm leaving this sh**ty life behind!" I roared. Jack's mouth fell open in shock and he struggled for words.

"Don't say a word," I hissed at the teen I used to view as my leader, my brother, and my friend. Jack's mouth snapped shut and he backed away slightly. Good. He'd learned his lesson. I stood up straighter, a bit of a proud smile lurking on my face. Jack's eyes were sad as he watched me turn to the train, which had just arrived. It was about twenty minutes early, but that was good. The sooner I could get away, the better.

"Ya can't leave, Specs," Jack murmured. "Says who?" I snapped back. Jack shook his head and grabbed me by the arm. I was surprised at how gentle his grip was. It wasn't harsh and hateful like I expected it to be. It was concerned, pleading, and even almost loving in a way. I found myself standing there, watching Jack as he studied my face for some sort of sign or something.

"I know how it feels, Specs. To think that everythin's ya fault and the only way out is ta run," Jack said quietly. I laughed humorlessly and yanked my arm out of his grip, but I didn't start walking to the train. "No you don't Jack. You don't understand at all. This is how I get away from things," I spat, not noticing that Jack flinched. He smiled sadly and held his hands up in a surrendering motion, nodding at the train behind me.

"I guess I don't. Go ahead, then, and good luck. Don't forget ta write, a'ight?" Jack murmured. I blinked in surprise, but I nodded and waved slightly before turning back to the train and got ready to board. When I handed the conductor my ticket I moved into the train, trying to find an empty compartment. I spotted one near the end of the train and I quickly went in, storing my suitcase up on the shelves above and sitting down on the hard oak bench. The train lurched and started to move forward. I looked out the window, a small part of me sad that I was leaving. Manhattan had been a home to me. I had a family, a job, a place to live, everything I'd ever dreamed for since I was a kid. But I couldn't stay here, not after what I did.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I spotted Jack on the platform. He wasn't alone. There was Dutchy, Skittery, Kid Blink, Mush, Davey, Les, Crutchy, Boots, Snitch, Itey... They were all there. Even Spot was there. I opened the window and stuck my head out, watching as Dutchy and Skittery looked up at me with tear filled eyes. I waved, and hands shot up as the newsies quickly returned my goodbye. The train started going faster, and Dutchy and Skittery broke out into a run.

They ran beside the train and got close to it. The train wasn't moving too fast and Dutchy reach up, grabbing one of my hands and smiling at me from behind his glasses covered, tear filled eyes. Everybody had always thought that we were blood brothers, and now I could tell why. Skittery, good ol' glum and dumb but secretly cheerful Skittery grabbed my hand when Dutchy let go. The train was moving too fast and the two of them could just run beside it. They ran and waved until they had disappeared from my view, and I collapsed back onto the bench, covering my face with my hands and sobbing softly as I sank down. Dutchy and Skittery were upset now, but they'd realize that all of them were better off without me. I had killed Race, but now I was gone, and no one else could get hurt.

I'm running away, and I'm never going back.


End file.
